Restoring Grace (22 page)

‘Surely
not!'

‘
Well, eventually it will. It's serious, Gracie.
This is
a problem you can't just
ignore and hope it will go
away.’

Grace gave in. 'I suppose you'd better come over then
– come tomorrow evening, for supper
at about eight.’

It was only
after she'd put the phone down and was
rubbing
her ear, having pressed the receiver to it too hard
in her anxiety, that she took in the fact that
she'd invited
her sister for a meal with no Edward to protect her. It
would be the first time since he'd left. Before
her renewed
interest in Grace's house, Allegra had always been too busy
to come so far just for a meal and always expected
Grace to make the journey to Surrey. What had she been
thinking
of?

*

When Ellie returned, she was very tired but bubbling with
excitement.

‘I've had
such a good day! I went to Bath to try and get in touch with my old
History-of-Art tutor—’

‘Did you do
it?' asked Demi, who was bored.

‘I sent him
an email – God knows if he'll get it – but I did get in touch with this ace
picture restorer.'

‘
You didn't tell him about the paintings?' asked
Grace,
who had not had a good day and was inclined to panic. 'No! I just
got him to agree to have me on a work placement.'

‘
What does that mean?' asked Demi. 'Is it like work
experience?'

‘
Just, only
when you're at university, it's called a work
placement.'

‘What's it called when you're not at
university?' asked Grace.

‘
Working
for nothing,' Ellie said, sinking on to a chair.
'Poor you. And you're
doing it for my paintings. You're a star,' said Grace.

‘Grace's sister is coming for dinner tomorrow,'
said Demi. 'I've met her. She's really scary.'

‘
Is she? Oh, Grace! Did she invite herself?'

‘
No, I invited her, but she'd said she had to see me. I
didn't have much choke.'

‘
And what
are you going to give her to eat?' Ellie asked,
knowing Grace didn't
really do cooking.

‘
I don't know. A joint, perhaps?’

Demi giggled. 'You're going to give your sister
marijuana for dinner? Wicked!’

Grace made a cross face at Demi. 'Which is easier,
do you think? Beef, lamb or pork?'

‘
Quite honestly, they're all about the same and
I don't recommend doing a joint,' said Ellie. 'I used to do them
for Rick, and they're lovely, but it's really
difficult getting
the roast potatoes brown and the veg all cooked at the
same time, and then there's the gravy.'

‘Oh God.
What should I cook then? She's terribly
gourmet.
It was all right when Edward was here, because he was terribly gourmet, too,
and we'd either get someone
in to do it, or Edward would cook himself.'
Grace found herself overwhelmed by a pang of wistfulness when she
thought about Edward cooking. He did it with such
attention to detail. In the early days of their marriage he would
come
home from the office and cook her delicious little morsels.

She shrugged off the pang with a shake of her
head.

She had been getting so
much better lately, only thinking
about Edward about seventy per cent
of the time. She
must not allow herself to
backslide. 'On the other hand,' she went on briskly, 'although I did invite her
she forced
me into it. She can just
have what we're having. We'll get
a
takeaway and Allegra can eat chicken korma like most
of the rest of the
country'

‘What?' asked Demi, confused.

‘It's the nation's favourite dish,' explained
Grace.

‘Would you like me to do it?' suggested Ellie,
ignoring this diversion. 'I mean, I don't want to take over if you were looking
forward to doing it, but if—'

‘Oh, Ellie!' Grace hugged her. 'That would be
brilliant!'

‘
But you'll
have to go shopping tomorrow. I want to
read some art books, so I don't look a complete idiot when
I go back to the picture restorer's the day after
tomorrow.'

‘
Of
course! And you're quite sure you didn't tell the
picture restorer about the paintings?' Now she had
stopped
worrying about the cooking Grace found herself
free to worry about Allegra discovering her hidden
treasure, and it seemed entirely possible that
there would
be some complicated code
of practice which compelled
art
experts to report important discoveries to some higher
authority, so
they could be saved for posterity or something. 'I'll have to get some
curtains, too,' she added, thinking aloud.

‘
Why would
having curtains stop Ellie's picture restorer
finding out about the
paintings?' asked Demi.

‘Oh, I wasn't talking about him, it's Allegra.
She's got
this report that young man did on
the house and she wants
to discuss it. She might want to look round
everywhere.'

‘
Then we'd
better pin the old ones up again,' said Ellie.
'She's bound to notice
new ones. Especially if you buy them off the peg.'

‘
I was
thinking of the charity shops, junk shops, places
like that,' said
Grace.

‘
Those
windows are bloody enormous, Grace,' said
Ellie.

‘
Well,
we'll see if we can get the old ones up. Oh, bloody
Allegra!'

‘Tut, tut, language,' said Demi.

Chapter
Nine

 
The tune of 'Jingle Bells' issuing
from her shopping bag made Grace jump. Then she remembered that she'd borrowed
Ellie's mobile and it was probably her, adding to the shopping list which Grace
was now working her way through. She retrieved it and found an area in the
supermarket which was less busy.

‘Hello?'

‘Hello.’

It was Flynn. It was so
strange hearing his voice in the
supermarket that Grace felt herself
blush.

‘Demi gave me your mobile number. I've got a
case of wine here for you, and she thought you might like to collect it on the
way back from the shops.'

‘Oh. Why have you got it?'

‘
It's from Graham. He sent it to the wrong
address.’

‘Who's
Graham?'

‘
From the wine shop? Also, I wondered if I could come
round and make a start on putting in the Rayburn
soon.
Possibly tonight? I'm going away and want to get it done
before I go because I'm going to be really busy
when I
get back and otherwise the
thing won't be operating until
the summer.’

With part of her mind Grace was studying a
packet of
shiitake mushrooms, wondering how
they could ever
taste of anything except bits of stick, but the other
part was wondering if having Flynn in the house would be a good distraction for
Allegra.

‘
Um. I've got my sister coming for dinner.'

‘
You have a sister, have you? Is she anything like
you?’

‘
Not at all! She's very spiky and demanding.’

‘
Just like you,
then.'

‘
I am not demanding,' said Grace, acknowledging that
spiky did describe her when she was near Flynn.
She had
certainly never allowed
herself spikes when she was with
Edward.

‘Well then, shall I come over tonight or not? I
couldn't get it plumbed in so it won't heat the hot water, but it
would heat the kitchen and you could cook on it.
It might
be your last opportunity for
heat this side of next
Christmas.'

‘
I haven't
got the pipe and bits and pieces that you said
you needed.' She felt strangely flustered. It was so out of
context,
talking to him while she was in such a crowded place.

‘I knew you wouldn't have. I'll bring what I
need, and as I said, I won't have time to do the plumbing. I'll come about
six.'

‘Six. Fine. My sister's coming at eight.'

‘I might well be out of the way by then.' He
laughed.
'We don't want you snotty-nosed
sister catching you with
an Irishman in the kitchen.’

Because this was a fair estimate of how Allegra
might react to Flynn's presence, she said, 'No, no. I was just thinking it
would be nice if you could stay for supper. Ellie's got a lovely meal planned.'

‘Oh.'

‘Well, make up your mind!' She didn't want to
appear too keen. 'I'm in town now and if Ellie needs more ingredients, I'll
have to get them!'

‘
You do have a way of making a man feel wanted.’

‘
I'm sorry! I'm just in a bit of a state. The
supermarket
is not where I usually arrange my social life.'

‘
Social life, is it?' She could hear him smiling.
'I see I've
been promoted.'

‘
Oh, for God's sake!'
She felt herself blushing. 'Are you
coming or not?'

‘I'll be there at six and I'll bring the wine
Graham sent by mistake. Though it doesn't look as if there's anything
drinkable in it. I'd better bring something
decent myself.'

‘
I have
plenty of wine, thank you!' said Grace and disconnected. What was it about that
man? She was as
meek as milk with every
other human on the planet, but
with Flynn Cormack – or Cormack Flynn,
whatever his bloody name was – she was a cow.

As she slipped the phone
back into her bag she absolved
herself of
'cow' and realised that it wasn't only Flynn she'd
been more assertive with lately. Allegra and Hermia, even
Edward
to some extent, had all heard the rough side of
her tongue recently. Perhaps she was growing up at last,
pushing
past the stunting influence of a pair of bossy
siblings and a dynamic husband. Then she fished the phone
back
out of her bag. She'd better tell Ellie she'd invited
Flynn to dinner; she was bound to want more pork fillets.

*

Grace's first thought
when she turned back into the drive
was that
Ellie's little 2CV had been turned into two, much
larger,
newer cars. Then she realised that the inevitable visit from Hermia and Edward
had finally happened and that Ellie was out. Grace hoped that Demi was with
her,
or it would be difficult to fight off a
kidnap attempt if
that's what Hermia and Edward wanted. Although part of
her didn't think they did want Demi back, or they'd have been here before now.

They were waiting beside
their cars, their arms folded,
watching each other with hostility.
When Grace parked, they both looked round and the hostility was turned on
her. Grace tried hard not to let her heart sink as
she looked
at them through her rear-view mirror, but it was obviously
weighted with lead because, without permission from her, it plummeted.

She turned round to the
back seat, ostensibly to gather
up the carrier bags, in fact giving
herself time to collect
herself. She reminded
herself that she was actually
doing them both a huge favour, and soon
they would realise it. And it was high time she stopped being fright
ened of Hermia and daunted in a different way by
Edward.

By the time she finally emerged from the car
she was feeling positively belligerent.

‘
Hello, you
two.' They would hate being lumped
together like that. 'I won't be a
moment. I'll just get this shopping. Have you been here long?'

‘Fifteen minutes,' snapped Hermia. 'Where have
you been?’

Tempted to answer 'the
opera', Grace ignored this and
carried her bags to the front door,
dropped them, then fished about in her bag for the key.